


The Anvil and the Chain

by Lise



Category: Doctrine of Labyrinths - Sarah Monette
Genre: (that's a tag?), Anal Sex, Canon Typical Awful, Explicit Sexual Content, Fucked Up, M/M, Oral Sex, Past Child Abuse, Pre-Canon, Prostitution, Rough Oral Sex, Underage Prostitution, Whipping, uhhh basically all the warnings, yeah if the tags aren't telling you yet this is a fucked up fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 04:30:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17676473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: “Him,” the ruby-ringed man said. "The redhead. I'll take him."





	The Anvil and the Chain

**Author's Note:**

> So in case that stack of warnings in the tag and the AO3 warnings doesn't cover it - this is pre-series Felix/Malkar with everything that entails. I'd pretend I have shame but I only have...a little bit of shame. Not a lot of shame. Barely any shame, really. 
> 
> Immense thanks to [Echo](http://loxxxlay.tumblr.com) for reading this over for me and soothing my intense nerves about it, and also to [Amelia](http://ameliarating.tumblr.com) for her edits and consistent lack of judgment. I am, as ever, immeasurably grateful.
> 
> Anyone who wants to see more of me, I'm on [Tumblr](http://veliseraptor.tumblr.com), collapsing ever deeper into old small book fandoms.

The first thing that Felix noticed about Malkar was his hands. 

Large, heavy, gold rings set with rubies glittering on his fingers. He looked at his hands, and not his face, because that was better. Faces didn’t matter. Hands told you more, and it was good to have some idea of what to expect. 

“Him,” the ruby-ringed man said. His voice wasn’t harsh but still said _power_ , the casual expectation of obedience that marked tricks from high up, the kind with servants and households. “The redhead. I’ll take him.” 

Felix raised his eyes from hands to chest and watched the man approach. He gripped Felix’s chin between thumb and forefinger and forced his head up so he was looking him in the eyes. He was smiling.

“Remarkable,” he said, and then let go. “With me.”

Felix followed him up the stairs.

* * *

“What is your name,” the ruby-ringed man asked when the door closed. 

“Felix, milord,” he said, watching him circle the room. 

“Felix,” he repeated, and paused. “Come here, Felix.” 

He went. Even with the fog of phoenix dulling his nerves, his heart still beat a little quicker. “You have a very unusual look, don’t you?”

“Yes, milord,” he said. _Unusual._ That was a nicer word than some he’d heard. 

He raised a hand to Felix’s nearly blind eye, tracing one finger around the edge. He knew better than to flinch, but the fear was still there. “My name is Malkar,” he said. “Malkar Gennadion. Can you say that?”

He swallowed. “Malkar Gennadion,” Felix repeated. He didn’t see the blow coming - the backhand from his blind side, rings biting into his skin and sending him staggering a step sideways.

“Stop talking, darling,” Malkar said. “I can’t bear that _hideous_ accent.” 

“Sorry,” Felix said, and had a moment to think _stupid_ before Malkar hit him again. 

“What did I say?” he said, voice pleasant, and Felix pressed his lips together and didn’t answer this time, casting his eyes down. “Look at me,” Malkar said, and he corrected himself. He expected anger, but it wasn’t there. Instead, Malkar was smiling.

Felix shivered, and thought he saw Malkar’s smile widen. 

“Clothes off,” he said, taking a step back. “Let me see what I’m getting, here.”

Felix knew how to undress. How to show himself to best effect, how to make a performance of it. This, at least, was consistent, or mostly, except for those tricks who wanted to tear clothes off instead. This one didn’t want that, though, just watched and smiled and walked in a slow circle. He didn’t touch, but Felix was aware of him anyway. Fear rose up and the phoenix pushed it gently back down. 

“Your hair,” Malkar murmured when he was naked, standing in front of him again. “It’s quite striking.”

He swallowed his answer, this time. 

“Good,” Malkar purred, “you’re learning,” and Felix shivered, his cock starting to harden. Malkar’s eyes flicked down and his smile widened. There was no warmth in it. He stepped closer and reached out again, turning Felix’s head to the left so he couldn’t see him. “Your right eye is blind, isn’t it? You can answer.”

“Almost,” Felix said. Sometimes people noticed. Sometimes they didn’t. It was always worse when they did. 

He released Felix’s chin but only to circle back around behind him. He took a handful of Felix’s hair and pulled just hard enough to draw his head back as his other hand traced a path from shoulder to hip, the sensation of it strange. 

“Quite the scars you have, Felix,” he said. “What _did_ you do to earn them?” He said nothing, breathing quickening, and Malkar’s hand in his hair pulled harder. “Answer me,” he commanded, in a voice that denied even the possibility of refusal. 

“I - don’t know,” Felix said. “He didn’t always say.”

“ _He_ meaning…”

“My Keeper.” Felix licked his lips. “Lord Malkar–”

Malkar pulled his hair hard enough to make Felix’s eyes water. “Hush. Didn’t I tell you not to speak? You aren’t _stupid,_ are you?”

_You asked,_ Felix thought desperately, but it didn’t matter. Like with most of his tricks, probably if Malkar wanted to punish Felix then he would. There was no point thinking he could spare himself. He would just find a different excuse. Still, he shook his head rather than answering aloud, and Malkar let him go.

“Put your hands against the wall,” Malkar said, all lightness leaving his voice. Felix obeyed in silence, bracing his hands against the indicated wall. Malkar used his foot to push his ankles further apart, one of his hands resting briefly, heavily, over Felix’s hip before drawing back. Felix let out a slow, unsteady breath, his body responding to familiar cues.

“Eager, hmm?” There was a lazy sort of pleasure in Malkar’s voice. “Well suited to your habitat, aren’t you?” He heard Malkar move away but didn’t dare glance over his shoulder. Waiting, though he could guess what was coming. 

Leather tails slapped against his thigh and Felix jumped. It didn’t even sting, but he knew it would, and that promise made his skin tingle and his lungs tighten. 

“Don’t worry, darling,” Malkar said, his voice as rich as his clothes. “I won’t leave you with any new scars.”

At the first strike of the lash a sharp and breathless sound burst out of Felix’s mouth. The many tails of the scourge Malkar had chosen left individual stings spread out across his back and he pressed his palms hard against the wall, leaning his forehead between them. 

The second blow was almost casual, laid directly on top of the first. The sound of the whip’s tails against skin was sharper than the sting, but Felix still heard himself make a small sound, not quite a cry.

“Don’t feel you need to keep quiet now,” Malkar said, and Felix thought he might be amused. “It’s your accent I object to, not your voice. Now.”

He settled into a rhythm. Regular strokes, overlapping down his back, the sensation muted on his scars and sharper in between. He could feel his skin heating, each blow of the lash making him jump and shudder. He cried out sharply when the whip snapped against the backs of his thighs, and then again, and again. Unmarked skin grew hot and tender and he took it, his head spinning. His body pulsed with the rhythm of the lashes; his cock was hard but he didn’t even think of touching himself. 

The blows stopped and Felix sagged against the wall. There were tears on his face and he was breathing raggedly, his knees shaking, his body shaking. Drawing close, Malkar traced the line of a fresh welt with one finger, bringing back a fresh sting. His hips pushed back as Felix let out a faint cry, Malkar’s stiff cock rubbing against him through his pants. Malkar reached around and wrapped his large hand around Felix’s cock, squeezing roughly. He hiccuped, thrusting into his palm.

“Slut,” Malkar said, but approvingly, and stepped back. “Get on your knees. I hope you’re worth what I paid for you.”

Felix pushed himself away from the wall, turned, and folded down to his knees. Almost immediately Malkar knotted his fingers in his hair and pulled his head back, forcing Felix’s eyes up to his as he opened his pants with his other hand. He was smiling again, an expression that sent a chill down Felix’s spine, but he couldn’t look away. Not that he would have tried. He leaned toward Malkar, drawn to him, fear and anticipation making his breath short. 

Malkar pushed his head down, dragging his head into position and thrusting into his mouth before he was ready. He didn’t gag - never did - and didn’t try to pull back. This - this was easy, almost routine, and his thoughts drifted a little away.

The tug on his hair was hard enough to rip some out of his scalp, Malkar’s cock sliding out of his mouth, and he slapped Felix again. The rings bit into his cheek and he cried out.

“I expect your _full_ attention, darling,” he purred, and a shiver ran all the way down Felix’s spine. “Should we discuss punishment now, or tally up your failures for later?” 

A small noise escaped him, not quite a whimper. His cock hardened and he licked his lips. “What...what do you want,” he asked. 

“Did I _say_ you could speak?” Malkar said. A glow started in his rings and Felix realized what they meant, that they weren’t just jewelry. _Kethe,_ he thought, dazed, before pain hammered into him. 

He thought he screamed. It was hard to tell, except that when he could think again he was bent forward on hands and knees and sobbing for breath. The sting of the fresh welts on his back was nothing.

“Please,” Felix said. “I’m sorry–” He watched his hands. No tattoos, not like the hocuses from the Mirador.

Again that sweet, agonizing pain. Tears spilled out of his eyes and down his cheeks. “I don’t want your apologies, whore,” Malkar said. “Why don’t you _show_ me how sorry you are.” 

Felix breathed in as deep as he could and crawled to him, pressed his forehead to his boots. He stayed there, frozen, almost holding his breath.

Malkar pulled his head up by the hair and crouched down, letting go only to grip his chin too tightly. Felix couldn’t look away, almost hypnotized. Maybe he was, maybe Malkar was working some spell on him that’d do something awful.

“There,” Malkar purred, “that’s better.” He stood up again. “Now get back to work.”

Felix obeyed, and this time he didn’t let his mind wander. He had to work Malkar’s cock back up before taking him back in his mouth. He was thick and heavy on Felix’s tongue, and when he pushed Felix’s head back down his jaw felt stretched. He held Felix there, one hand on the back of his head, and brushed the thumb of his other against Felix’s cheek. Felix glanced up to see his smile and his stomach flipped. His cock stirred. 

Saliva was pooling in his mouth. He tried to swallow and Malkar groaned and forced his head down further, his cock filling Felix’s throat. His eyes closed and he could feel it, like falling, as Malkar twisted Felix’s hair around his hand and pulled his head up and then down, using his mouth and throat with near indifference. Felix did what he could with lips and tongue, his jaw starting to ache, but like this, with Malkar setting speed and depth, making Felix take his whole length, rough strokes hammering the back of his throat–

And then he stopped, almost flinging Felix back. He fell awkwardly on his ass, dizzy and dazed, throat sore and cock hard. He looked up at Malkar, blinking. 

“Bend over the edge of the bed,” he said, voice rough. Felix pushed himself up, knees shaky, but as he moved toward the bed Malkar caught one of his arms and reached down to squeeze his cock. Felix gasped, and the horrible pleased smile came back. 

“You are quite a treasure, aren’t you,” he said, and Felix shivered, swaying toward him, his eyes foggy. Malkar’s smile widened and his hand slid around the back of Felix’s neck, his thumb pressing down against his pulse. Felix heard himself make a small noise and let himself be drawn closer, unable to even think of resisting. He didn’t want to. 

How could he?

Malkar’s kiss was slow and cruel, hand pinning Felix in place as he claimed his mouth like he would devour him, bones and all. When he let go, Felix’s head was spinning and his breath was short, his cock hard in Malkar’s hand still holding him. 

_Oh,_ he thought, dazed. 

“Turn,” Malkar said, releasing him, his voice low, “and bend over.”

He turned as if Malkar had pushed him, folding over the edge of the bed with his ass in the air. Malkar pressed up behind him, his cock wet with Felix’s spit nudging against him. He gripped the back of Felix’s neck and forced his head down, pressing his face into the bed. He curled his fingers into the sheets and closed his eyes, his body going limp. Malkar’s fingers squeezed and for just a moment Felix could taste the Sim. 

The thumb of Malkar’s other hand pressed between his buttocks and rubbed against him before pressing in. He let out a whine for the burn of it and Malkar’s fingers dug in harder. He was going to leave bruises. “Oh, come,” he said. “This isn’t too much for you, is it?” 

“Nn-no, milord,” Felix said, and realized his mistake a moment late. The hand on the back of his neck moved to his hair and yanked until his neck ached. 

“You don’t learn well, do you?” Malkar said, still pushing his thumb deeper, and Felix’s body answered to it, surrendered to him. “And here I thought you might be trainable.” 

_I am,_ Felix thought, _I am, I can be good,_ his body trembling as Malkar prepared him, hips lifting into his hand. “At least you’re good for _this,_ little slut,” he said, the hand on Felix’s neck bearing down harder. He switched the thumb of his other hand to three fingers and he gasped but didn’t tense, riding the waves of sensation, his head spinning. His cock was rock hard, pinned between his stomach and the bed, the texture of the cover too rough against sensitive skin. 

_Surrender,_ the phoenix whispered. _Let go._

Malkar pulled his fingers out. The blunt head of his cock rubbed against him for just a moment before he thrust into him, driving into Felix’s body with the same force as the hand on his neck holding him down. He pushed back into it, desperate, and Malkar laughed before he moved, pulling out and pushing back into him, forcing Felix open. And again, and again, every thrust pushing deeper until his hips met Felix’s ass. In every breath out Felix could hear a thin sound, not quite a whine, tears leaking out of his eyes.

He held there a moment, his hands moving to Felix’s hips, fingertips digging in hard enough to bruise. Then Malkar started fucking him in earnest, slow and merciless and there was a feeling building like Malkar was pushing something into him other than his cock, an awful pressure bearing down on him like the hand that had been on the back of his neck. Some instinct made him squirm before he could repress it, trying to twist free, but Malkar pinned him down easily and he didn’t have much fight in him. 

“There you are,” Malkar said, voice thick with lust and satisfaction, and Felix felt something _give_ and cried out at the strange pain of it, a cry that turned into a howl when Malkar quickened his pace to short, rough thrusts that jarred his body forward. Felix’s cock rubbed uncomfortably against the sheets but he didn’t dare try to move, or couldn’t move, not with Malkar’s weight holding him down, fucking him breathless until the only sound he could make was voiceless gasps as he pressed his face to the bed and went utterly limp in perfect surrender.

He felt Malkar come inside him with a groan. He pulled out roughly and Felix let out a faint whimper, his body liquid, thoughts a blurry scramble. He stayed where he was, only just shuddering when Malkar drew a fingernail down one of the welts he’d left on Felix’s back. 

“Oh, yes,” he said, his voice a low and satisfied purr. “I think you’ll do quite nicely.”


End file.
